


Calling All Boys

by nothingelsematters



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Deacury, Gen, M/M, Maylor - Freeform, Oh Boy What Have I done, Professor Brian, Starring - Freeform, Tumblr Prompt, and camboy models Freddie and Roger, camboy au, electrician John, meet cute
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2020-06-09 23:05:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19485850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingelsematters/pseuds/nothingelsematters
Summary: John and Brian are two ordinary best friends who live together and watch their favourite camboys, Mercury and Venus...sometimes together.Freddie and Roger are just two best friends trying their best to earn enough money to fulfil their dreams. They stream regularly on the cam site, but both have a special fan that they favour.And then one day Freddie walks into John's shop.





	1. Take This Message

**Author's Note:**

> Oh. My. God. This fic has taken over my LIFE. It hasn't just grown legs, it's become a MONSTER.
> 
> Prompt originally from jimhuttons on tumblr:
> 
> Roger and Freddie being camboys and Brian and John being regular viewers of them.
> 
> I don't know how long this is going to be. It's growing. Also, I promise there will be smut. Eventually.
> 
> Title is obviously from Roger's (criminally underrated bop) Calling All Girls.

John was too warm when he woke up. Too warm and too stiff.

Grimacing, he opened his eyes, confirming his suspicions that yes, the reason for both was that he was currently being aggressively spooned by his taller, curly-haired, very much asleep best friend.

“Oi. Gerroff,” John grumbled, trying to pull away, but Brian’s arms only tightened around him. “I mean it, Bri, lemme go.”

A tiny whimper was the only answer.

_Oh. It’s one of those._

John stopped struggling and instead rolled over, flattening his hands against Brian’s chest and pressing his lips to his throat, humming quietly.

Slowly, Brian’s grip slackened, and his breathing evened out. John slid his hands down to Brian’s ribs, rubbing small circles.

They didn’t sleep in the same bed often, but when they did, John knew exactly how to calm Brian down when he had one of his nightmares.

 _Probably_ , John thought as Brian finally let him go, his body relaxed and his face peaceful, _anyone else in our position would give up and call us lovers._

But they had tried that, some years ago when they had first moved to London together. The sex had been good, their intimacy wonderful, but there hadn’t been love. Or rather, there had been, but not of the romantic type.

 _If there hadn’t been some kind of love, our friendship would not have survived_ , John smiled as he kissed Brian’s hair and rolled out of bed.

He snatched a pair of Brian’s sweatpants off the floor and pulled them on as he padded out to the kitchen, wincing as his muscles woke themselves up. They’d had a good night, but man was he feeling it this morning.

John couldn’t help but smile at the memory.

Brian’s present for John’s birthday had been a private session with their favourite cammers. When Brian had presented the printed-out receipt (with the price duly blacked out) John had protested.

_“First of all, this must have cost a fortune,” he scolded, and Brian rolled his eyes._

_“Deaky, we’re two bachelors living frugally while getting paid quite decently. We can afford to be lavish every now and again.”_

_“And second,” John continued as though he hadn’t heard what Brian had said, “I feel like this is a bowling ball present. Venus is **your** favourite, and you get to join in.”_

_Brian did have the decency to blush at that._

_“Okay, maybe I did screw that up,” he admitted. “But I know you enjoyed the double show they put on a few weeks ago, so I thought maybe it could be fun.”_

_“Don’t think I’m forgetting this when it comes to Christmas,” John grinned._

He supposed Brian had a bit of a right to join in; it had been Brian who had found the cam site after all, had introduced John to Venus and then Mercury.

Mercury…

Even just thinking about the sultry cam model had John’s heart beating faster. Like Brian, John had started out watching videos of Venus – Venus was exactly Brian’s type, 70’s style golden hair, nymph-like body, big blue eyes and a cheeky grin. But from Venus’ videos, John had been linked to Mercury, and immediately became one of his regular viewers.

Not for the first time, John found himself wondering what Mercury was _really_ like. If those dark eyes would sparkle when he laughed properly. If those plump lips were really as kissable as they looked. If the dark strands of his hair would really feel like silk –

 _Stop that_. John frowned as he poured the tea. He knew that what Mercury did was an act, as it was with Venus. Of course it was in their interests to keep their viewers half in love with them. It was just that, last night…well…he thought he’d felt a connection. Something more special. Something in the way Mercury had said his name. Even if it had been through a camera –

His phone’s alarm beeped shrilly, reminding him that it was time to be moving.

Grimacing, John quickly grabbed one of the teacups and carried it through to Brian’s bedroom. He normally felt bad about waking Brian – the man was _not_ a morning person by any definition – but he knew that Brian had an early lecture today, and if John didn’t wake him now, they’d both be late.

“Oi! Lazybones! Get up!”

Brian mumbled something incoherent that was probably insulting. His hazel eyes blinked open sluggishly, taking in the sight of John standing there with a cup.

“What time is it?” he yawned.

“Eight,” John replied. “I need to go soon, and so do you.”

Brian groaned, but duly began rolling himself out of the bed. John set the cup down on his dresser and hurried into his own bedroom to get properly dressed. If he was on time for the right bus, he’d be in the store at 8:45, which was good, because he could tinker.

He pulled his hair back into a ponytail – he liked the 70s style on himself, so sue him – and grabbed his satchel, heading back out into the living area. Brian was now standing near the door, sliding his clogs on and dressed in a suit.

“Oh god.” John rolled his eyes and set to work fixing Brian’s tie. “One of these days, _Professor_ , you’re going to learn how to do your own tie properly.”

Brian laughed. “But why would I when I have you to fix it?”

John swatted him. “Get moving, before your students decide the class-cancelled-if-the-professor-is-late rule applies to you.”

“Have a great day, Deaks!” Brian called over his shoulder as he rushed out.

John pulled on his favourite pair of platform boots and set out for the bus stop. By good luck, he managed to arrive just as the bus did.

As it pulled away, it passed Brian, strolling up the road to the university. Brian looked up and waved, and John waved back.

They’d chosen their apartment when they’d first come for university, which meant walking distance. Brian had continued to walk even after he’d got his PhD and become a professor, since he saw no point in contributing to pollution by driving the short distance. John couldn’t help a little giggle at the knowledge that sometimes the astrophysics students would have their professor take a side-step into a lecture about the environment.

John would have liked to work within walking distance, but there weren’t really a lot of options. Fortunately, the store he had chosen to start his business in was on a number of bus routes that went past their apartment, and it only took twenty minutes or so.

He hopped off the bus and waved at Jim, who owned the mechanic shop next door, and who everyone called Miami, for no discernible reason John could see.

And there it was. His pride and joy. _Deacon Electrics_.

Like him, the storefront was unassuming, but he had a regular, steady clientele who would come looking for someone who could fix the most obscure and difficult of items. Sometimes he built things of his own invention.

Unlocking the door, John flipped the sign to “OPEN” and began to set up for the day.

*

The afternoon had been quiet so far, so John had hastily braided and pinned up his hair and was working on his newest creation. It was an amp, which seemed ordinary, but John was tinkering and fiddling with it to make it sound unique. He’d have to take it home tonight and show Brian, and hear how it sounded with their guitars –

“Hello?”

A soft voice came from out the front, and John startled. He hadn’t heard the bell. Quickly, he rushed out, dusting his hands on his jeans as he went.

“So sorry,” John started, and then he stopped, his breath catching.

The man standing there, a little uncertainly, was nothing short of _beautiful_.

“Um, hi,” the stranger said, a hint of pink colouring his sharp cheekbones. “I was, um, looking to have something fixed.”

“Oh!” John managed to drag himself back to the real world. “Of course. I’m John, by the way. What is it?”

“Freddie,” the other man replied, his cheeks darkening further, and he opened the bag on his arm and pulled out a video camera. It was a top brand, not quite the latest model but near enough. “I’m afraid a friend and I were horsing around in my room last night, and it fell off the stand I had it on. I use it to make my living, you see, and I’m told you are the best…”

John couldn’t help but smile. Freddie had quite a mesmerising voice.

“Well, let me have a look at it. I should have all the parts I need, hopefully it’s nothing too serious.”

John whipped out his jeweller’s screwdrivers, and began to carefully take the camera apart. The lens was cracked, but he definitely had a spare.

“Excuse me,” Freddie interrupted. “Do I – have we met before?”

John looked up, surprised.

“No, I don’t think so,” he said. Then he flashed Freddie a grin. “I think I’d remember meeting someone as handsome as you.”

Freddie went bright red, but didn’t say anything.

“Okay,” John straightened up after a while. “It looks like it’ll only be a minor repair, just the lens and a few internals. No serious damage. I should have it done for you in about two hours.”

“Oh, thankyou so much!” Freddie smiled, and John froze.

 _Those teeth_.

“How much will I owe you, darling?” Freddie continued gaily, seemingly unaware of John’s shock.

“Um, uh…” John calculated quickly. “Seventy.”

“Thankyou again, John, dear. I’ll be back in two hours.”

And Freddie had flounced out of the shop.

On autopilot, John picked up the camera and carried it to his workbench. He arranged the tools he needed, pulled out the parts he needed, and sat down, but his brain wouldn’t stop replaying Freddie’s smile.

Freddie’s smile, which looked all too like _Mercury’s smile_.

John knew Mercury was English, but he’d never thought he might run into him in _London_. At work.

 _No, calm down. You don’t know for sure it’s Mercury_.

John took a deep breath. No, and it probably wasn’t. It was likely just a coincidence – it wasn’t like Mercury could be the only person with those cute teeth out there.

Besides, was he really going to dream of a cam-boy who probably had already forgotten his name when he was going to have a real life, beautiful man in his shop again in just two hours? No, he wasn’t.

He wondered if Freddie had any plans for dinner.

*

“ _Rog!_ ”

Roger turned to see Freddie flying into the café where they’d agreed to meet. He looked pale and anxious and Roger wondered what on earth had set him off.

“Freddie, are you all right?”

“I found him. I found him, Rog!”

“Found who?”

“Sparky!”

Roger rolled his eyes. Freddie hadn’t shut up for weeks about one his viewers, a man whose username was Sparky1951, or, as they’d learned last night, _John_. Roger thought he was being a little ridiculous; of course the man would leave sweet comments, he was paying to watch Freddie so he could get his rocks off!

Still, Roger had liked the look of him well enough last night. Him and his friend, ZodiacStar. ZodiacStar had left lots of comments on Roger’s videos before. And even in their private session, ZodiacStar – that’s right, he said his name was Brian – had been gentle and caring with both John and the two of them, even if they’d been on the other end of the camera. Roger had to admit he’d been intrigued himself.

“Are you sure it’s Sparky? And where?”

“At the electronics shop, where I took the camera. And yes, I’m sure. He has the same little gap in his teeth and his eyes crinkle the same way. And his voice is the same.”

Roger frowned. “What do you want to do? Did he recognise you?”

“I don’t think so. I want…I want to ask him out, Rog,” Freddie said quietly. “I know, I know we both agreed we shouldn’t mix work and personal lives, but…there’s something, something about him…”

Roger sighed. “All right. I’ll come with you.”

“Perhaps he might be meeting his friend after work,” Freddie grinned slyly, and Roger elbowed him.

*

John made sure he looked presentable as the two-hour mark approached. His already-wavy hair was now even wavier thanks to the braiding, but John ran a quick brush through it and hoped it looked all right. He’d washed his hands and his face and done his best to get dust and grit off his jeans and shirt.

Freddie’s camera sat on his workbench, completely put together and ready to go, looking like new.

This time, he heard the bell, and managed to walk out into the shop casually, his best smile on his face.

And then he froze again, his heart hammering.

For all his determination not to think of Freddie as Mercury but to give him a chance on his own was swept aside when the man who walked in beside him was so clearly Venus.

John was absolutely certain. He had the same lithe build, the same golden hair that hung just below his shoulders, tousled stylishly, and those huge blue eyes with the fine, long eyelashes were a dead giveaway.

He was deluding himself. Freddie had to be Mercury. There was no other explanation.

“Hello, John,” Freddie said softly, bringing John back to himself. “This is my dear friend, Roger.”

“Hello,” Roger said, his voice sweet and exactly the voice that had purred to them on the camera last night.

“Pleased to meet you,” John managed to say. “Here’s your camera, it should work as good as new, but if it doesn’t, I offer a six-month warranty on parts and service.”

“Thankyou so much, John, you’re a lifesaver, you really are.” Freddie flashed John that smile again, and John could feel his knees weakening. “Here you go, seventy, as agreed.”

John counted the notes mechanically, his throat dry, and rang it through the register to give Freddie his receipt.

Gathering up his courage, he managed to speak.

“Freddie, I was, uh…” John licked his lips quickly. “I was wondering if you had any plans for dinner tonight?”

Freddie’s cheeks darkened, and his eyes widened, and he looked so delighted that John was left momentarily breathless.

“Are you – as a date?”

“If – if you want…” John swallowed. “I mean, yes, I would like it to be a date, but it doesn’t have to be if you don’t want it to be…”

Freddie’s smile widened.

“I would love to go on a date with you.”

Roger was looking between them.

“Weren’t we going to that restaurant near the university tonight, Freddie?”

Freddie shot Roger an evil eye.

“You’ll have to excuse him, darling,” Freddie said coolly to John. “I had _one_ bad first date experience and he thinks he needs to chaperone me everywhere.”

“We don’t even _know_ him, Freddie,” Roger replied sharply. He glanced at John. “No offense, of course.”

“None taken,” John replied easily. “Why don’t I bring a friend too? We can all have dinner together and get to know each other.”

“Sounds lovely, darling. We have reservations at The Ritz at seven. Does that work for you?”

“Yes,” John smiled. “I’ll meet you there.”

“I can’t wait,” Freddie smiled back, and John felt his heart do a backflip.

*

“ _Brian!_ ”

Brian wandered out of the bathroom, combing his hair, at the sound of the slamming door.

“John? What is it?”

“I have a date.”

“With who?” Brian grinned.

“His name is Freddie, he came into the shop today. But his friend Roger is super protective and I need you to come with me. To show him I’m respectable.”

“Oh, okay,” Brian looked surprised. “When and where are we meeting them?”

“The Ritz, seven.”

Brian glanced at the clock. “We have half an hour to get ready. You’re not going to be able to wash your hair.”

“Have we still got some of that dry shampoo left?”

“Yes. Wear the navy shirt and white waistcoat,” Brian suggested.

“With the white pants?”

“They make your ass look great. What?” Brian dodged the swat aimed his way. “You’re going on a date! The whole _idea_ is to make him wanna sleep with you!”

“Get dressed,” John groaned, shoving Brian into his room.


	2. This Message Is True

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meetings! Dinner! Feelings! Excitement?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter:
> 
> \- Protective!Roger rises again  
> \- platonic soulmates!  
> \- science nerds!  
> \- a recalcitrant cup of coffee  
> \- English weather  
> \- COMMUNICATION ANGST

Roger glanced at the clock. 6:58. Beside him, Freddie was getting nervous, his fingers twisting together.

God help John if he was late; if he upset Freddie, Roger would –

His brain ground to a stuttering halt as he looked at the door.

John had just walked in, and by his side was a man who completely erased any doubts Roger might have had about John being Sparky, because that was undoubtedly ZodiacStar – Brian – next to him, his curly hair larger than life.

_And god, he looks even better in real life…_

The two men were shown over to their table, smiling shyly, and Roger couldn’t take his eyes away from the pretty, sharp-toothed smile on Brian’s face.

Oh boy. And here he was complaining about Freddie and Sparky.

John could practically feel Brian shaking behind him. He’d wrestled pretty much the whole time they were getting ready with the idea of telling Brian his suspicions, and finally had told him as they walked up to the restaurant. Brian had gone sheet-white, stumbled, and gone very silent. Now, feeling his friend’s reaction, he was very glad he’d warned him, as there was every chance Brian would have turned into a babbling mess otherwise.

“Freddie,” John addressed himself to the dark-haired man, who looked absolutely stunning and was also dressed in white. “You look lovely.”

“Thankyou,” Freddie grinned back. “So do you. Who is your friend?”

“Freddie, Roger, this is Professor Brian May. He teaches astrophysics at the university.”

“A pleasure, Professor May!” Freddie beamed, shaking his hand. Brian blushed.

“You can call me Brian, not even my students call me Professor.”

“Brian, then,” Freddie’s voice wavered just slightly. “I’m Freddie Bulsara.”

“Pleased to meet you.”

Brian turned to Roger, who was now eyeing him curiously. “Roger Taylor. Pleased to meet you, Brian.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, Roger.”

Roger’s cheeks flushed slightly pink and Brian felt his fingers tingle in the warmth of his grasp. He let go reluctantly as they seated themselves.

The air was awkward for a moment, and then Roger leaned forward. “I feel like this is the start of a joke. You know, an astrophysicist, an electrical engineer, a biologist, and an artist all walk into a bar…”

There was half a beat of silence, and then the other three burst out laughing.

After that, the awkward tension dissipated. John was able to forget that he was sure Freddie was Mercury and enjoy his company for what it was. Freddie was brilliant, sparkling and witty, clever and delightful. They talked about all sorts of different things; Freddie’s fledgling fashion design career (taking a while to take off, as all such things did), John’s electrical business and the sort of work he did, where they had gone to university, everything.

“So you and Brian have known each other for a long time, then.”

“Yeah,” John let his smile soften as he looked at Brian. “He’s always been a lanky goof.”

“You like him.”

John looked back at Freddie.

“Yes. I love him – but not romantically. We tried that. It didn’t work. We’re much better as friends.”

Freddie’s eyes flashed and he smiled wide enough to show his teeth. “Platonic soulmates. It’s just like me and Roger. The same thing. Friends for years, tried to be together, realised that wasn’t a smart idea, inseparable friends. Fortunately,” Freddie lowered his voice, bringing his head closer to John’s in a conspiratorial fashion, “it seems that our platonic soulmates might just like _each other_.”

Roger and Brian were deep in scientific conversation. Roger had graduated with his degree in biology, but he was considering doing his PhD. He didn’t have the funds at the moment, but he explained to Brian exactly what he’d do it on if he got the opportunity. And Brian, for the first time in ages, found someone who not only _wanted_ to listen to his explanations about the zodiacal dust cloud, but had an active listener with a bright mind who not only understood but _asked more_.

In fact, Brian had almost forgotten that Roger was almost certainly Venus.

*

The night went swimmingly, but soon enough the dessert plates were cleared and the bill had arrived. After considerable (and somewhat scientific) discussion about who should pay (as all of them wanted to), they ended up pooling resources to each pay his own share.

And then, as Freddie stood to get out of the table, the tablecloth caught on one of his rings and pulled over a half-empty cup of coffee. All he could do was stare in horror as the brown stain spread across his immaculate white pants.

“Oh, no!”

Freddie looked near tears, and John felt his heart wrench.

“This is my favourite pair, too!”

“That needs to come out quickly or it’ll stain,” Brian worried his lip with his teeth, and glanced at John.

John nodded.

“Freddie, if you like, you and Roger could come back to our place for a bit, and we could try and get the stain out before it sets? It’s only a few minutes’ walk up the road. We could lend you some clothes.”

Roger and Freddie looked at each other, obviously having the same silent conversation. After a moment, Freddie turned back to John and said, “That’s very kind of you, darling. Thankyou.”

Unfortunately, the London weather had decided to be, well, _English_ , while they were in the restaurant. Even though the apartment was only about five or six minutes’ walk, all four of them ended up absolutely drenched by the time they hustled through the door.

“N-now this j-just feels like a r-rom-com,” Roger managed to laugh through his chattering teeth.

“Fortunately,” John managed to keep his voice steady, “we have two bathrooms – if you two would like to shower first, we can find some clothes for you while we get those dry…”

“D-don’t be s-silly, John, dear,” Freddie replied. “R-Rog and I will shower together, we’ve seen all of it before. Y-you and Brian n-need to get warm too.”

“Okay,” Brian jumped in, his cheeks slightly flushed. “How about you two use my room and my shower, and Deaky and I will use his room and shower? We’ll leave you two some clothes on the bed.”

“T-thanks,” Roger’s smile was warm and Brian’s cheeks darkened.

The two men disappeared into Brian’s bedroom. John immediately started moving towards his own room, stopping when Brian didn’t immediately follow. The taller man was staring dreamily into space, his gaze directed towards the door.

“Oi! Bri!”

“Coming!”

Quickly ditching their own wet clothes, Brian went to start the shower while John rifled through his drawers looking for some casual clothes. Roger and Freddie were both shorter than him, but his clothes should fit all right…

Dragging on a dressing-gown, just in case, John took his armful of clothes and padded out to Brian’s bedroom door. He listened, heard the shower running, and knocked tentatively. When he got no response, he opened the door slowly, relieved when he saw the bathroom door closed and wet clothing in a heap on the floor. Quickly, he left the clothes on the bed in two neatly-folded piles, and gathered up the wet things, carrying them through to the laundry.

All of the clothes went into the dryer except for Freddie’s pants, which John quickly dumped in a tubful of stain remover. Brian joined him, wrapped in a towel, and added their clothes to the mix, setting the dryer on high.

“Do you want to go first, Bri, or can I?”

Brian shrugged. “Why don’t we shower together, like the other two?”

John paused for only a moment. Freddie had had a point; it wasn’t like he and Brian hadn’t seen all of each other before anyway.

Plus, there was something to be said for standing under a warm shower, leaning on Brian, knowing the other man understood his nerves.

“Bri,” he murmured as Brian’s long fingers smoothed bodywash over his shoulders, “Bri…should we tell them?”

Brian sighed. “I have no idea, John. Like, I think, why not? And then I realise how fucking _creepy_ we come off. Oh, we totally _paid you for sexy videos_. Yikes. I wouldn’t blame them for ditching us.”

“I know,” John groaned, thumping his forehead against the nearest hard surface, which was, conveniently, Brian’s chest. “And it sounds so _stupid_ , but…but I really think…I feel like…we have a connection. Something…something special. Maybe. If we had a chance…”

“I don’t think that’s stupid, John. I…well, I feel it too. I felt it last night during the video and I felt it tonight at dinner. I want to follow it. I want to see where this leads. Just…”

“Just we paid them to fuck on camera for us.”

“Well, that.”

“I just…I can’t imagine starting a relationship with someone with this huge a secret! But telling him might… _ugh_. I can’t think right now.”

“Let’s just get warm and dry, eh?”

“I’d be warmer if you stopped blocking all the warm water, giraffe-man.”

“Well, that’s hardly my fault, short-ass.”

“You love my ass.”

“Doesn’t make it any taller.”

*

The nice bedroom was warm when Freddie and Roger left the bathroom – clearly, the heating had been turned up. Freddie found himself smiling at the sight of the fresh clothes laid out on the bed, even down to underwear and socks. He felt his cheeks flush at the idea of wearing John’s underwear.

Roger’s mind was differently occupied.

“Oh my god, if I didn’t already guess, I’d know now.”

“What do you mean, darling?”

Roger pointed to one of the posters on Brian’s wall. It was a gorgeous print of a galaxy, stars swirling in an endless cosmic dance.

“That poster was in the stream. I remember looking at it and wondering about it. That means – Jesus _Christ_ , Freddie, we’re in the exact room they were in last night!”

Freddie couldn’t help but let his eyes drop to the large bed. Of course, the sheets had been changed – they would have needed to be, after John had come all over them – oh god, he could _not_ be thinking this way!

“Should we tell them?” Roger asked, chewing on his bottom lip as he dragged the clothes on.

“I – I don’t know, darling. I don’t want to scare him off. But…I can’t imagine someone as lovely as him would want to be with me if he knew.”

“If he’s put off by that, he’s not good enough for you anyway,” Roger’s tone was fierce, the way it always got whenever Freddie questioned his worth.

“And do you think your respectable astrophysics professor will stay when he knows what you do, my dear?”

Roger flushed but shrugged, trying (and failing) to look indifferent. “His loss. I wouldn’t care.”

“Don’t say that, darling. I could see the way you were looking at him tonight. And the way he looked at _you_. Like you personally arranged that galaxy.”

Roger sighed.

“It’s just…if we want to…well, maybe get…get serious about this, I don’t see how we can’t _not_ tell them. But even if they’re great guys, would they _really_ want their boyfriends showing off on camera every few nights?”

“I know I wouldn’t like it much,” Freddie’s voice was soft.

“Hey. Maybe just don’t think about it tonight, okay? I mean, it’s just the first date. Maybe get a few dates in and see how we go.”

They were interrupted by a soft knock on the door and John’s voice.

“When you’re ready, I’m making tea, if you like.”

“Thanks!” Roger called back.

“We won’t tell them,” Freddie breathed, nodding to himself.

John and Brian were sitting at the kitchen table when they emerged, both of them wrapped up in dressing gowns and sweatpants. John smiled at Freddie, his eyes crinkling, and Freddie forgot all his anxieties in the rush of warmth that flooded him as John pushed a teacup towards him.

Roger settled down on the seat next to Brian, smiling up at him as he accepted his own teacup, and Brian blushed again as one thought reverberated through each of the four minds.

 _I am so screwed_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some of you were excited for Brian NOT to know, but John's not that much of an ass ;)


	3. Far and Near

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie puts on a show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, I am SO SORRY for the delay. Adulting was required and then my brain fizzed out.
> 
> Hopefully the proper schedule will resume from here on it.

Freddie wasn’t usually so nervous before a show.

He was in what he called “prep mode”, which basically meant he was going around his bedroom making sure everything and anything that could personally identify him was put away. He brought out the big fluffy cushions and the fluffy bedspread, setting up his soft lighting, and ran a critical eye over it all.

There. The room was ready for his show. Now to make himself ready.

He’d showered just before, cleaning every inch of himself with great thoroughness, attending to his body hair carefully – his viewers liked most of his natural body hair, but they expected him to be well-groomed, nevertheless.

Now he straightened his hair carefully – some nights his viewers liked him messy and curly, but most nights they preferred it straight – and tended to his makeup. The sweep of the mascara brush made his already-long lashes seem longer and fuller, and the dramatic wing of his eyeliner made him look even more sultry and wanton. But when he reached into the drawer to grab it, it wasn’t there.

Frowning, Freddie searched the drawer for a moment, and then he remembered lending it to Roger.

Quickly checking the time, he realised he had a few minutes before Roger went live, so he had the time to get it back. Still, he tapped very lightly on Roger’s door, just in case the other had started streaming early.

Roger answered, though, already fully-transformed into Venus. He had his red silk robe on over his lacy knickers, and his red eye mask making him unrecognisable. In contrast to Freddie’s dramatic wings, he used the eyeliner subtly, to give the illusion that his eyes – already big – were bigger than normal. Roger loved to start with the innocence ploy, and could pull it off well.

The stockings were new, though. Black-and-white stripes, coming up above his knees, his red ballet slippers on.

“Cute stockings,” Freddie grinned. “But I need my eyeliner.”

“Oh! Sorry, mate. One sec.”

Roger disappeared into his own bathroom, returning with the pen and a cheeky grin.

“Why did we decide to overlap again?”

Freddie rolled his eyes. “Because of private session bookings, darling. I’ll let you get to it. Wouldn’t want to be late for your viewers.”

Roger batted his eyelashes coquettishly at Freddie before closing the door.

Freddie chuckled to himself as he made his way back into his own bathroom, finishing his makeup with a swipe of gloss over his lips to make them look plump and kissable.

It wasn’t until he was settling himself on the bed and looked up at the camera that his nerves flashed higher.

The camera that John – that _Sparky_ – had fixed.

The camera that had sent him and John off on a wonderful first date.

The camera that was the start of a chain of texts between them in the two days since.

The camera that would forever stand between them.

Anxiety pooled in Freddie’s gut as his streaming time grew closer. What would he do if Sparky’s name appeared in the chat? _Would_ Sparky’s name appear in the chat? How should he take it if it did? As far as Freddie knew, John didn’t know who he was. If Sparky appeared in the chat, did it mean he wasn’t serious about Freddie?

Freddie tried to take a few deep breaths to calm himself. He couldn’t go into a stream anxious and upset. He needed equilibrium. But also, he needed to think logically.

Even if John was still on the stream, so what? They’d had one date and a few texts. That wasn’t enough to be called a relationship. They were still feeling one another out, and neither had yet suggested a second date. So it didn’t really mean anything if John was on the stream. They weren’t exclusive.

So why did that hurt a little?

Freddie forced it out of his mind.

Painting on a big smile, he clicked “stream”.

“Good evening, darlings!” he purred. “I hope we’ve all had a good few days since our last stream.”

The chat lit up, and Freddie kept half an eye on it.

“I’m glad, because I have a lovely new toy to show you all tonight! I happened across this in a store the other day and I simply couldn’t resist!”

Freddie bent down to retrieve the toy from the box at his feet, and when he looked back up, his heart nearly froze.

_Sparky1951 has tipped 100 tokens._

Freddie was entirely unprepared for the tumult of emotions that flooded his chest seeing those five simple words. First, the usual fondness and delight at seeing his regular viewer, but then a wave of pain and jealousy that despite their date and their texts, John was still watching his cam.

_But you’re also still **doing** the cam, so it’s hardly fair to be mad at him._

Freddie didn’t realise he’d stopped until the flood of messages started asking “what’s wrong?” “are we getting started?”

“Oh yes, darlings,” Freddie reassured them, plastering on his grin again. “I was just thinking of all the lovely things I could do with this toy.”

Forcing himself to focus, he brought the toy up into view. It was a rather large, sparkling, ribbed dildo – “and yes, that’s _seven_ vibration settings, darlings!”

He giggled as the chat lit up with all kinds of suggestions.

“Oh no, darlings, I won’t be sucking on it tonight, it’s still got that new-toy-taste and I’m afraid the store was out of my preferred flavoured lube when I went! You’ll have to wait for that. It’s quite big, though, isn’t it? I’ll have to make sure I’m very good and ready for it…”

He ran his hands down his chest, tweaking his nipples as he did so, giving the camera a saucy wink as he hooked his thumbs into his knickers. He pulled them down with exaggerated slowness, wiggling his backside at the camera; he turned back to a string of tips and messages.

Freddie popped the cap of the lube bottle with exaggerated flair, reclining back on the bed to make sure that his viewers could get a good view of his finger teasing around his hole for a moment before sliding in.

This was always the fun part, Freddie thought, when he moaned and twitched and generally put on a show. He’d felt like an idiot the first time he’d done it, but the viewers had loved it, and he’d come to love the theatrical performances himself.

He usually didn’t bother working his way up to three fingers – sometimes the viewers got bored – but as he looked up, he saw a message and a tip that made his heart flutter.

_Sparky1951 has tipped 200 tokens._

_Sparky1951: Make sure you stretch out properly. Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself._

And that, Freddie thought, was _exactly_ the sort of message which had enamoured him to Sparky in the first place.

A few people in the chat were complaining, wanting him to get on with it, but Freddie ignored them, sliding in a third finger, his heart doing curious flip-flops as the chat lit up again.

_Sparky1951 has tipped 300 tokens._

_Sparky1951: Don’t listen to them, Mercury. You’re the one that matters. Don’t hurt yourself just to please us._

Freddie let his eyes slide closed, and for a brief moment, let himself imagine that it was John – that it was Sparky – leaning over him, his long fingers working him open. He lifted his hips, feeling his cock jerk, and let out a long sighing moan.

Still, he couldn’t let himself get carried away. After that moment of indulgence, he opened his eyes again and eased his fingers out of himself, before picking up the vibrator and slathering it with lube, making sure to show the camera all the best angles.

“Now darlings, have a moment of patience with me…it’ll take a moment to fit this in…”

That, as it was intended to do, spurred another round of comments and tipping. Grinning, Freddie kept one eye on the comment section as he reached down and started sliding the toy inside, making sure to exaggerate his facial expressions slightly as though he was barely keeping control.

The toy _was_ bigger than most of Freddie’s other toys, but he knew that, having practiced with it earlier. (His viewers didn’t need to know that.) He made sure to bite his lip, knowing plenty of his viewers enjoyed that, and let out a little gasp as he settled it in.

“We’ll have to start off slowly,” Freddie added, batting his eyelashes. “It might be a bit much for me.”

(Freddie would never understand how the same men who loved to see him play innocent were also the same ones who loved when he got dirty; one of life’s great mysteries, he supposed.)

He took up the remote and flicked it on, reclining once more to let them get a good view of the toy inside him, keeping an eye on his secondary screen so he could read the comments.

Then he threw his head back, turned the remote to the next setting, and shoved all other thoughts out of his mind as he set to work.

*

“Well, my darlings,” Freddie managed to purr into the camera, keeping his breathing under control with some effort, “I do so hope you enjoyed tonight’s show.”

A series of tip messages lit up the sidebar.

“I hope you all have a lovely evening, and I’ll see you all on Friday night. Keep yourselves alive, my darlings!” Freddie blew the camera a kiss, but kept one eye on the messages. Sparky had always left one particular message – would he keep doing so?

_Sparky1951: Goodnight, Mercury. Sleep well and precious dreams._

Freddie’s heart fluttered as he clicked the STOP STREAMING button.

He stared at the message for a few minutes. This was the message that had really started it all – when his intrigue towards that viewer had begun. Now he knew that Sparky was John, it seemed to fit; John was shy, and sweet, and considerate…

Heaving a sigh, Freddie pulled himself up and set about cleaning up, restoring his bedroom to normal. Padding into the bathroom, he washed down himself and the toy, cleaning off his makeup with care; brushing out his hair, he shrugged on his fluffy dressing gown and made his way back into the bedroom.

It wasn’t until he was fitting the lens cap back onto the camera that it hit him again.

The camera that John had so carefully and brilliantly fixed.

The camera that led to their date.

Freddie felt his lower lip quiver; he was rarely so down after a show. Tea would help. Quietly, in case Roger was still streaming, he slipped out of his bedroom and to the kitchen.

He’d just finished making his tea – trying his hardest not to think about anything – when he heard a faint sniffle.

Whirling around, he could just make out the figure of Roger sitting on their couch, in the dark, still in his red silk robe, his hair a mess.

Quickly, Freddie poured another cup, and carried them both across, setting them on their coffee table.

“Rog, darling?”

“Oh, hi, Fred!” Roger’s voice was falsely high, the way it always was when he was trying to pretend he was unbothered by something. “Thanks for the tea!” He swiped his eyes quickly on the sleeve of his robe and even in the dim light Freddie could see his smudged makeup.

“Rog, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Fred, I’m fine, made a good haul tonight, what about you?”

Freddie didn’t answer; he settled himself on the couch beside Roger and wordlessly took him into his arms. The blond immediately hid his face in the softness of Freddie’s robe, and he didn’t even care that there was most likely going to be makeup stains on it after this.

After a while, Roger’s shoulders stopped shaking. The silence was broken with a whisper.

“We should have known better.”

“Known better for what, darling?” Freddie asked, though he thought he knew.

Roger sighed. “ _He_ showed up in my stream tonight. And – maybe he tipped a little more than normal – but he gave no hint that he knew who I was.”

Freddie stroked Roger’s hair. “Sparky showed up too.”

“And then I was angry because I was upset – what right do I have to be mad that he’s still watching? We had _one_ date. And I’m still doing it. God, Freddie, this is _exactly_ why we made that stupid rule!” Roger punched a cushion, his face contorted in despair, and Freddie felt his heart crack a little.

“I know, darling. I know. Listen, I think tonight is a cuddle night.”

Roger sighed again, but all his anger seemed to have drained, and now he just looked tired.

“Yeah. That sounds great.”

“Go wash up then,” Freddie smiled. “I’ll get out the blanket.”

Roger disappeared into his bathroom, and Freddie carried their cups into his bedroom. Crossing to the cupboard, he pulled out the large, fluffy, weighted blanket that they used for cuddle nights, when one or both of them was particularly stressed or upset. He snuggled down in the cosiness of his bed just as Roger returned, wearing his oversized flannel pyjamas. He was also still wearing the striped stockings, Freddie could see.

“They’re warm and comfy,” Roger answered Freddie’s raised eyebrow. He jumped onto the bed and wriggled his way under the blanket, snuggling up to Freddie’s side. Freddie looped his arm around him and let himself lean on his friend, and felt his body relaxing.

His phone buzzed softly. Roger was playing with his, so Freddie scooped it up to check the text message that had just arrived.

_John: Hey Freddie, I was wondering if you wanted to do coffee tomorrow? It would have to be near my shop if that’s okay?_

The wings fluttering in Freddie’s heart did an odd somersault. John had just been watching his stream and now was asking him out for coffee?

But still…

_Freddie: I’d love to. What time?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I teased smut and did not follow I'm SORRY that was the point my brain broke down.


	4. Take The Message of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys have their second dates and learn more about each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter:  
> \- cute rambling about passions  
> \- flirting  
> \- teasing  
> \- nerds!  
> \- and a promise that might change everything

Roger paused briefly to check his reflection in the window of the café…and to stop his hands from shaking.

He was being ridiculous to be this nervous, he thought. It was only his second date with Brian, and this wasn’t even a date-date; they were having coffee between lectures on the campus where Brian taught. Hardly romantic.

Still, he’d taken extra care with his appearance. He’d dressed respectably (for him), though he hadn’t been able to resist wearing his lucky pink sparkly Converse. His hair was styled into perfect waves. He’d exfoliated that morning so that his skin was clear and glowing.

He wanted to look like the sort of man the professor would come home to.

Taking a deep breath, he made his way inside. A quick look around saw Brian seated over to one corner, where there were fewer people; Roger snatched up a menu and walked over to the table as casually as he could.

“Hi, Brian.”

He was rewarded instantly, drinking in the way Brian’s hazel eyes widened, the dusting of pink decorating his cheekbones, the subconscious dart of his tongue to wet his lip, and the slow, charming smile revealing the pointed teeth.

“Hey, Roger.”

“Is this seat taken?” Roger asked innocently, batting his eyelashes at Brian; the pink on his cheeks darkened.

And then, to Roger’s delight, the smile widened further and Brian replied in a low voice, “It is, actually. I’m waiting for my date.”

“Oh? Is she beautiful?” Roger went for his most impish tone; this was a good opportunity to find out how Brian responded to teasing and flirting.

“ _He_ ,” Brian licked his lip again, “is the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. But that’s just the start. He’s also one of the smartest men I’ve ever met.”

Roger couldn’t help the flush of warmth that gripped his body. People rarely got close enough to see his intelligence; they took one look at his blond hair and model features and assumed he was stupid.

“He sounds amazing.”

“Because he is.” Brian laughed. “Sit down, Rog, you’re making the waitress nervous.”

Roger laughed too as he seated himself opposite Brian. All of the angst of the night before was melting away. Brian made him feel warm and bubbly.

Oh _god_ he was screwed.

“How was class this morning?” he asked on impulse, needing to talk.

Brian rolled his eyes. “First-year Masters students,” he groaned. “They think they know everything. They don’t. They don’t take it well.”

Roger tried and failed to stifle a giggle.

“And don’t even get me started on the complaints when I started handing out the assignment list. Yes, your galaxy analysis will be worth 60%, what did you think we were doing here, writing horoscopes?”

Roger gave in and laughed, almost snorting water up his nose.

“I’m glad someone likes my jokes, at least,” Brian grinned wryly. “The class did not appreciate that quite as much.”

“I think I’d have liked you as my professor.”

“I’m sure you were an excellent student.”

“Oh, I was terrible,” Roger chuckled, waving his hand. “I’d leave everything to the last minute.”

Brian raised an eyebrow. “And what sort of grades did you get?”

“Well,” Roger admitted sheepishly, “they were usually in the 90s.”

“Wow!” Brian looked genuinely impressed. “You must be a genius. Why on earth didn’t you go on to your PhD?”

Roger sighed.

“Couldn’t afford it. Supporting a PhD in Biology is crazy expensive. I’ve been trying to save up, but of course, the further you get away from your degree, the less attractive a prospect you are for supervisors.”

Brian nodded understandingly. “I get it. I had a two year break and struggled to get back in in my field, and that’s in a field where students who _want_ to do the PhD are rare.”

“What did you have a break for?”

“I contracted hepatitis,” Brian grimaced. “And gangrene. I nearly lost my arm, and I was very weak for a long time. Too weak even to work. John really saved my bacon. He looked after me, coddled me, and financially supported both of us until I could work again. And then I went straight into my PhD, so I wasn’t working as much as I could. And he wonders why I always buy him expensive birthday presents!” Brian chuckled – and then, for some inexplicable reason, blushed.

And Roger knew why. So, he and Freddie had been one of John’s “expensive birthday presents”. He tried not to think too much about that.

“You know, probably most people would say he’s your boyfriend.”

Brian laughed again. “We did try it,” he admitted. “I do love him. But…we realised we were so much better for each other as friends. Trying to love each other brought us too close, it ruined us. Fortunately, we worked it out quickly.”

“I’m glad,” Roger couldn’t help but say, and Brian shot him a coy smile.

“So, tell me – if you had gone into your doctorate, what would you have studied?”

“Pathobiology,” Roger replied promptly. “The mechanisms of disease. It’s a fascinating branch, and there’s always more to learn. Plus, it would end up helping people, and that would be the end goal.”

Brian’s smile widened in delight.

“We have an excellent professor here who supervises pathobiology students,” he said quietly. “If you like, I could talk to him for you.”

Roger hesitated. On the one hand, Brian was offering him his hopes and dreams on a silver platter. But on the other…he didn’t want to feel indebted to Brian, and he was proud; proud enough to want to earn it. Maybe it was stupid.

“Thankyou, Brian. But I want to get in on my own.”

To his relief, Brian nodded understandingly. “I understand. But if you ever change your mind, let me know, all right? It’s the least I could do.”

Brian felt his heart do a flip at the sheer joy radiating off Roger’s face. The least he could do, indeed, when just last night he’d watched Roger jerk himself off on camera. He felt like a pervert, a creep. How many of Roger’s followers must offer him gifts? Brian would be just another, offering the connection to woo him.

He really should tell Roger; stop the deception before it went too far, before one of them got badly hurt by it. Secrets had no place in a relationship, and yet here he was, cultivating a relationship built on a lie.

The trouble was, the more he saw of Roger, the more he spoke to him, the more Brian wanted. He had no difficulties envisaging Roger sitting on the couch in their apartment, studying frantically as Brian made him dinner; he had no difficulties imagining himself coaxing and teasing Roger to come to bed and sleep; and he had absolutely no difficulties in imagining them older, hair streaked with grey, sitting side by side before a fire…

Brian was shaken out of his reverie by the gentle chirping of his alarm, telling him it was time to be at class. Frowning, he shook his smart watch to stop it.

“I’m so sorry, Roger. I’m covering another professor this week so my schedule is more full than usual.”

“That’s fine, Brian,” Roger smiled. “You should go; tell more students that you’re not writing horoscopes.”

Brian giggled, stood, and Roger thought he hesitated.

“Um – how about dinner? Friday?”

Roger quickly whizzed through the week’s scheduled shows in his head. Friday was, somehow, clear; he didn’t always like Fridays. Followers were usually too tired after a work week to want to watch.

“Sure,” Roger’s smile widened. “That sounds wonderful. Text me?”

“As soon as I’m free,” Brian promised. He seemed to hesitate again; then, to Roger’s shock, he bent down and kissed his cheek, before fleeing.

Roger couldn’t help it. He let his hand drift up to touch the spot where Brian had kissed him, what he knew to be a dopey smile on his face.

*

John had planned everything out carefully this time. He’d even brought some spare clothes so that he could change out of his dusty work gear, and made sure to comb his hair.

And yet, when Freddie arrived, he still felt underdressed.

It wasn’t that Freddie had dressed up, per se. It was just that Freddie looked so damn beautiful in everything that John felt dowdy by comparison.

Still, the way Freddie’s face lit up when he saw John was absolutely worth it.

“Hello, John, darling! I hope I’m not late.”

“Right on time, Freddie,” John answered. “Shall we order?”

“So,” Freddie asked as the waitress took their orders back to the kitchen. “Are you working on anything interesting at the moment?”

John shook his head. “It’s been a quiet day, so I’ve been working on my pet project.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a guitar amplifier.”

Freddie grinned broadly.

“Do you play?”

“Some. Acoustic and bass. Bri taught me a little electric. One night we’re going to get him drunk and I’ll get him to show you how good he is – probably could have made it as a rock star if he wasn’t doing his degree.”

“You’ll have to play for me sometime,” Freddie said happily. “Do you sing?”

“Oh, goodness, no,” John laughed. “I’m terrible. Bri’s the one with the angel’s voice.”

“I don’t believe that,” Freddie let his voice go soft. “You have a lovely speaking voice, your singing voice must be fine.”

John blushed, but just shook his head.

“So what does your amp do, other than amp?”

“Oh, I’m adding a few extra features,” John was relieved to move away from the vocal subject. “The idea…the idea is that it could, uh, I suppose create guitar orchestras, but also, produce unique sounds. For example, the modification I’m working on should allow an electric guitar to sound like brass instruments!”

“Oh?” Freddie’s attention was caught. “How would you do something like that?”

“Well,” John lit up, always eager to explain the technical bits of his work. “It’s to do with the polarity. If you wire it differently…”

Freddie couldn’t help but watch the expressiveness on John’s face as he began to describe the intricate circuitry in an animated fashion, his hands moving as he demonstrated how the amp was put together. Freddie honestly didn’t understand one word in five, but it was clear to him that John was keen on his work.

It was only when the coffee arrived that John suddenly snapped his mouth shut, slowly turning red.

“What is it?” Freddie asked.

“I just realised I’ve been rambling on and on about myself,” John mumbled, reaching for his coffee quickly.

“It’s fine, John, really,” Freddie smiled. “I could watch you talk about this all day. You clearly love it so much.”

“You’d be bored after a while,” John offered a sly smile. “So, what do you do for work?”

Freddie bit his lip. John had an expectant look on his face.

But he was so sweet, and lovely. Freddie didn’t know if he had the heart to tell him.

“Oh, a little of this, a little of that,” Freddie said airly. “It’s from home, mostly, and some freelance work. And of course, I’m working on my label, which takes up a lot of time. I’d rather not talk about my work; it’s dreadfully dull!”

There was a pause, then John smiled.

“Tell me about your label, then.”

“Oh, darling, it’s going to be fabulous,” Freddie declared. “It’s mostly a women’s label, but also targeted at men like me and Roger, who prefer to dress a little more…well, outlandishly, I suppose.”

“So the clothes are beautiful, then, like you,” John’s smile widened.

Freddie laughed in delight. “You minx! That was very smooth! Well, I think they’re lovely clothes. Light, flowing fabrics, you know. I prefer unique cuts – you don’t have to be showing a lot of skin to be daring, and not all revealing cuts suit all body shapes.”

He was off, and even as he knew he was rambling, he could see the way John’s face softened, his smile faraway and thoughtful. Yes, John admired the fashion designer, the art student. He would not admire the cam model. It only reinforced Freddie’s decision not to tell him yet.

But all too soon the coffee cups were empty, and John checked his watch and made a rueful face at Freddie.

“I’m sorry, Freddie. But I promise, next time we’ll have a proper date. How does dinner on Friday sound?”

“It sounds lovely,” Freddie grinned. John had an easy way of making him feel like it wasn’t an excuse and that he really regretted leaving. “Shall we do seven?”

“Seven it is.”

They walked together back to John’s shop, examining the grey clouds and wondering when the rain would start. When they got to the door, John unlocked it, and turned to Freddie with a smile.

“Friday, then?”

“Friday.”

Freddie turned to go, but John stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Hey, Freddie?”

“Yes, John?”

John fixed Freddie with a serious gaze.

“Whatever you do for work – even if you think it’s something shameful – it will never make you less, Freddie. It will never lower your worth in my eyes. I promise.”

Freddie bit his lip again, suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to cry. Instead, he leaned in, and brushed his lips to John’s cheek.

“Thankyou, John.”

And then he turned and left, not seeing the way John’s smile grew brighter, or the way he touched his cheek, focused instead only on John’s promise burning its way through his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...but still no communication.
> 
> You can also leave comments on my tumblr @nothingelsematterswrites! My askbox is presently closed to prompts/headcanons, but you can leave comments in it if you like.


	5. Some Foreign Presence You Feel...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything seems to be going beautifully...but will it continue to when the secret finally comes to light?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter:  
> \- soft Dealor and Maycury friendship  
> \- '39  
> \- Roger's falsetto  
> \- fluff
> 
> AND
> 
> \- COMMUNICATION (poor-quality)

The next few weeks passed in a flurry of dinners, coffees, and text messages. While the two couples mostly dated separately, there were also three further dinners that counted as double dates.

Probably, Freddie thought, most people would be to jealous to go on a double date; but he took quiet pleasure in the shy friendship that John and Roger were striking up. They both loved cars and racing, and always had a surplus of things to talk about. If John was to be a more permanent fixture in his life, then Freddie knew it was important that he got along well with the man who was more brother to him than friend.

Just as importantly, he himself could feel a closeness starting to develop between himself and Brian. He wouldn’t have thought it, but under the astrophysicist’s science brain was an appreciation for beauty and a gift for words that delighted Freddie.

Oh, and more than a smattering of musical talent.

That evening they were meeting in the living room of John and Brian’s apartment; by now, Freddie and Roger came and went as they pleased. John and Brian also came to theirs, but by unspoken agreement, it was more often the former, given its relative size.

Four weeks had wrought a significant change in the weather; it was now much warmer than when Freddie had first met John, and he happily shunned his fur coats in favour of lighter jackets. He didn’t much like wearing fur around Brian anyway; Brian was very animal-rights, and though he didn’t shame Freddie for it, his reasonable tone made Freddie think.

But still their secrets tormented them. For Sparky had turned up in every stream of Freddie’s, and ZodiacStar in Roger’s. They had tipped generously, left their usual sweet comments and maybe a couple more. And yet, on their dates, John and Brian were scrupulously gentlemanly, treating them with kindness and love, and gave no sign that they knew about Roger and Freddie’s other lives.

And the guilt of keeping something so huge from John was tearing Freddie apart inside. For with every passing day he fell harder and further. He wasn’t just in danger now; he was falling head over heels down into love, and if this went badly, as there was every chance it might, Freddie knew it would hurt him for a long, long time.

He let himself into the apartment with the spare key hidden under the cat statue outside the door; the apartment was a nice temperature, homely and warm, and as he closed the door, he heard the most beautiful piano music coming from the living room. Following it, he smiled to see Brian bent over the piano, his fingers dancing over the keys, his face a picture of concentration.

“It’s beautiful,” Freddie said softly, when Brian was finished. “Did you write that yourself?”

Brian jumped, turned, and blushed when he saw Freddie.

“Oh! Yes – yes, I did.”

“It’s lovely. I didn’t know you were such a musician.”

“It’s…it’s for Roger,” and now Brian’s cheeks were quite red. “I thought…I thought he might like it.”

“He’ll love it,” Freddie said honestly. His eyes travelled across the guitars against the wall. “Is tonight the night we hear you play those, as well?”

“If you’re lucky, you might even hear me play.”

Freddie turned to see John standing in the other doorway, his casual t-shirt and jeans still making him look effortlessly beautiful. He was holding two glasses of wine; he brought one over, offering it with a charming smile.

“If you play, I may even sing,” Freddie grinned. He turned his attention back to Brian. “Roger messaged me to say he will be a little late; he got caught up.”

“That’s fine,” Brian smiled. “Dinner’s just keeping warm.”

“Will you continue to play?”

Brian smiled. “How about I start with the guitar, then?”

“Oh, are you going to play it, then?” John grinned.

“Well, I don’t see why _not_ , John.”

“All right then, let me get set up.”

The door opened with a bang and Roger came in just as John got himself settled on a stool near the piano, bass guitar in hand.

“Oh? What’s going on here?”

“Brian and John are going to play for us, darling,” Freddie smiled, shifting over on the couch to make room as Brian smiled up at Roger, settling in with his acoustic guitar.

“What are you going to play, Bri?”

Brian’s cheeks were pink. “It’s – it’s nothing, a bit of nonsense really…” He seemed to be clamming up.

John sighed theatrically. “He loves this song, of course, but he gets so very shy about performing it.”

“What’s it about?” Roger asked encouragingly.

“Well,” Brian mumbled, “it’s sort of about space, and space travel.”

“Go on then, I’d love to hear it!” Roger’s face was shining, and Brian lost the thread of his thoughts for a moment before looking back down at his guitar.

“All right.”

He took a deep breath, and began playing. After a few bars, John joined in with the soft thumping of his bass.

Then Brian began to sing.

 _“In the year of ’39 assembled here the volunteers…_ ”

Freddie was delighted. Brian had a lovely warm voice, and John’s sound was so rhythmic and powerful. He spared a sideways glance at Roger; Roger was sitting forward, his eyes wide, enchantment written in every line of his face. For all his (increasingly more feeble) protests, Freddie knew what it was that gave Roger his radiant glow.

 _Love_.

They finished the song, and Freddie and Roger applauded, rewarded with a shy bow from Brian.

“I’d best get the dinner out,” the professor mumbled, seemingly embarrassed by their praise; but Roger stopped him.

“Wait. That bridge…the feeling I get from it is sort of…ethereal?”

Brian nodded.

“Play it again. Just the bridge.”

Brian looked a little confused, glanced at John, who shrugged, and began to play again. John quickly jumped back in.

Roger opened his mouth, and then both of them visibly jumped as an otherworldly wail filled the air, keeping in tune with the song.

The instruments came to a jumbling halt. Now it was Roger’s turn to blush and look shy.

“What the _hell_ was that?” John gasped.

Feeling merciful, Freddie jumped in. “Our dear Roger has possibly the highest falsetto I’ve ever heard!” he beamed. “Isn’t it incredible?”

Brian was staring at Roger as though he’d hung the stars.

“It’s…it’s the sound from my dream,” he whispered. “When I wrote the song…I heard that – your voice. I could never figure out how to make that sound.”

Roger’s smile widened.

“Maybe my voice just sounds weird.”

“Or maybe,” Brian smiled as he set the guitar aside, “maybe yours is the voice I’ve been chasing among the stars.”

*

Freddie was casually scrolling through his emails, checking that the payment from the cam site had gone through into his PayPal, when a new message came into his inbox. Opening it, his heart stood still.

It was a booking for a private show.

With _Sparky1951._

With John.

For tonight.

Freddie had no show planned tonight – it wasn’t one of his usual haunts. But to have a private show? With John? Why would John even book a private show? They’d been on several dates – did this mean John wasn’t serious about him?

Freddie had already made up his mind that he was going to tell John the truth on their next date. He’d worked up the courage; by now he thought he had enough of John’s measure to judge that his reaction would not be awful. But this threw a spanner in the whole works.

For a moment, his mouse hovered over the _Decline_ button.

Then he saw the note.

_Mostly just talking tonight, if you don’t mind. I need someone to bounce things off and why not the loveliest man on the internet?_

Now Freddie’s curiosity was piqued. He’d heard of some cammers developing this sort of relationship with viewers, where the viewer would use them as a sounding board – almost a sugar daddy type arrangement. He’d never had one himself, but there was surely no time like the present, and it would help not make things awkward.

_Mercury has accepted your private show request!_

*

By now, Freddie had been to John and Brian’s enough times that he immediately recognised John’s bedroom – he had his favourite soft green sheets on the bed, and looked cosy and comfortable in his pyjamas.

“Hi, Mercury!”

“Hello, darling!” Freddie purred, trying to think of John as just another client – but it was near-impossible when he now knew nearly every facet of that beautiful face, every expression of those eyes. “So, a little chatter, eh?”

“I wanted to tell you about the man I’ve been seeing,” John said shyly, and Freddie’s heart did a backflip.

“Oh? Is he pretty? Is he as pretty as _me_?”

John giggled. “He’s beautiful. And so clever, and witty. His mind is full of new ideas and ways to go about them. But he’s kind, so kind, so gentle.”

“He sounds wonderful,” Freddie managed to say, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

“He is,” John continued. “Since he came into my life, I’ve never felt so happy. My world revolves around him. He makes even the dullest things sparkle and shine. It hasn’t even been that long, but I can already see us old and grey together. I want to tell him those three little words.”

“So why haven’t you, darling?”

“Because I have a secret. And I feel so guilty about it.”

“You should tell him.”

“I should. I want to. I want to tell him how I know, what he means to me, and that my feelings are true regardless of his secret. So…Freddie, won’t you take off your mask for me?”

All the blood in Freddie’s veins turned to ice. He couldn’t think, couldn’t speak.

“What…what did you say?” he managed to say in a strangled tone.

“I know, Freddie. It’s all right. Please take off your mask?”

Almost on autopilot, Freddie did so. And John beamed.

“There you are, my dear Freddie.”

For some reason, the endearment was what snapped Freddie out of his shock. The ice receded under the onslaught of white-hot anger.

“You knew. How long have you known?”

John bit his lip.

“Since…since we met.”

Freddie felt his anger burn hotter.

“You _knew_ , all this time, and didn’t tell me?”

“Well – uh – I mean…you didn’t tell me either,” John tried to point out, and that sent Freddie into a rage.

“You should know _damn well_ why I didn’t tell you! This line of work is _dangerous_ when people know who I am! I can’t just go round willy-nilly telling everyone on the first date! I didn’t even _know_ you really then! And apparently I still don’t now!”

John was cringing backwards.

“Freddie – I didn’t mean – I thought it would be better like this…”

“You let me stew, and tear myself to pieces, for a whole month! Do you know how long I’ve been wrangling with telling you? Do you know how hard I had to work to convince myself to tell you? I was going to tell you tomorrow!”

“Freddie…”

“Answer me this. Does Brian know about Roger?”

John’s cheeks were red. “Yes.”

“How did he find out?”

“I…I told him. Before…before our first date.”

“So it’s not even just my trust you betrayed, it’s Roger’s, too!”

John was starting to fire up in response.

“You want to talk about _trust_? I _gave_ you openings. I _wanted_ you to tell me first. But you kept on with your shows like nothing had happened!”

“Because that’s how I earn my _money_!” Freddie roared back. “I noticed you were only too quick to continue watching! How do you think that made me feel, that I knew you were watching even though we were dating when I had no idea you knew who I was? You want to talk about trust, let’s start with that! Or don’t! I’m done here.”

“Freddie…”

John was cut off as Freddie hit the STOP STREAMING button.

He was shaking with rage. How could John do this to him? John had been lying to him from the start, had pretended he didn’t know, had played him for a fool. He’d tormented him by not letting him know, by showing up in his streams…

 _You didn’t tell him, either_.

Freddie’s phone began to ring. Looking down at the screen, he saw _John <3_.

No. He couldn’t do this.

Freddie reached down and blocked John’s number, and for good measure, changed the name of the contact.

_John </3_

He picked up a pillow, shoved it against his face, and screamed his agony into its muffling depths, his tears leaving stains on the fabric.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John, John, John, for a smart man, that was epic dumb. You done fucked up, boy.


	6. This Message Is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roger finds out. It goes a bit differently than you might expect.

Roger smiled as he woke, basking for a moment in the warm sun that came through the gap in his curtains.

Rolling over, he picked up his phone, his smile widening as he saw Brian’s good morning message.

_Good morning, sunshine. I hope your dreams were as beautiful as you! <3_

Stretching, Roger rolled out of bed and headed through to the bathroom. It was later than he usually got up, but for once, he didn’t care. He’d been out late the previous night with Brian; the professor had taken him to a field, with a telescope, and they had spent the evening looking at the stars. They had stayed out until two or three in the morning, and it had taken all of Roger’s willpower not to suggest that Brian just stay the night with him.

He had crept in the night before, because the little sign on Freddie’s door had said _do not disturb_ , and there’d been no light on in his room. Roger had assumed Freddie was asleep.

Roger smiled as his phone vibrated again.

_You might want to check in with Freddie. John is very upset. The only thing I can get out of him is that he and Freddie fought._

A frown graced Roger’s eyebrows. What could possibly have been such a terrible fight that John was rendered incoherent? He made his way out to the kitchen. If the fight had been that bad, he would probably need to make Freddie breakfast to calm him down.

In the dark corner of his heart, fear whispered that he knew what it was likely about.

But when Roger arrived in the kitchen, it was to see Freddie sitting at the table, his face ashen-grey, his hair limp, large dark circles under his eyes that were definitely not smudged mascara. He looked listless and sad, and Roger felt his heart crack.

“Freddie?”

“Morning, Rog,” Freddie’s voice was husky from much weeping. “Have a good night?”

“I did, but I can see that you didn’t.” Roger settled himself in the chair next to Freddie’s, and reached out. Freddie slumped, shuddering, into his arms, and Roger found himself rocking them gently as Freddie whimpered tearlessly against his chest.

It was some time before Freddie stilled, and Roger lifted him upright again gently, placing a tender kiss on his forehead.

“I’m going to make us some tea,” he said slowly, making sure the seemingly shell-shocked Freddie understood, “and then we can talk, or not, as you like.”

There was silence in the kitchen as Roger made the tea, carefully measuring out the one-and-three-sevenths sugars he preferred, and making sure plenty of milk went into Freddie’s. He brought the cups back across, set them down on the table, and waited.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait long. After just a few sips, Freddie sighed and looked up.

“Have you…have you spoken with Brian, yet? About…about what we do?”

Roger felt his face flush with guilt.

“No. No, I haven’t.”

“He knows.”

The two words, with their dead, flat delivery, sent a spiral of ice curling through Roger’s veins.

“W-what?”

“He knows. Because…because John knew. John knew, from the start, who I was. Who you were. Who _we_ were. And he told Brian.”

“They…they knew?”

A great surging tumult of emotions was pounding in Roger’s chest, and he couldn’t untangle them or work out what was what.

But first he had to work out what had happened to Freddie.

“Is that what happened last night? You found out?”

Freddie nodded.

“How did you find out? Did you work it out?”

“He…” Freddie swallowed. “He booked a private session with me. He described…” His lower lip wobbled; Roger could see him visibly force the tears back. “He told me all about this man he was in love with, and then he called me by my name and asked me to take off the mask.”

In spite of himself, Roger couldn’t help a smile.

“He told you he loves you?”

“He said he wanted to tell me, yes.”

“Freddie, that’s wonderful!”

“It’s _not_ ,” Freddie snapped. “He _knew_ , Rog. He knew the whole time and he let us just tear ourselves to pieces over the dilemma of telling them when there was no need to tell him. He knew and he didn’t tell me.”

Roger bit his lip.

“But I mean…we didn’t tell them, either.”

“You _know_ why that was.”

Roger sighed.

“Yes, I do.”

“I just feel so…betrayed,” Freddie’s voice was hollow. “He let me believe he didn’t know, when he did.”

“He must have had a reason,” Roger murmured.

“Well, I don’t care. I’m going back to bed.”

Roger watched as Freddie stormed into his bedroom and slammed the door shut.

Then he pulled out his phone.

_We need to talk. ASAP._

*

Brian checked his watch anxiously as he raced into the coffee shop. He had no idea what had Roger so desperate to talk, but he guessed it was to do with John and Freddie, and he would do anything to get that lifeless, broken expression off John’s face.

He wished it could have been sooner than three hours after Roger’s text.

Roger was sitting at a table in the far corner, away from everyone else, and his face was serious. That alone set the butterflies going in Brian’s stomach.

“Rog?”

“Did you know?”

Brian had barely even sat down before the question knocked him for six.

“Know what?”

“Who we are. What we do. Did you know?”

The butterflies turned into a hurricane.

“Yes,” he managed to say, barely above a whisper. “Yes, I knew.”

“When did you know?”

Brian hung his head.

“John told me, the first night. But…I knew as soon as I saw you. Roger – I’m sorry, I should have told you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want to freak you out. I didn’t want you to think I was some creepy stalker.”

Roger let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

“Not…not because you were ashamed of it, or thought less of me for it?”

“What?” Brian’s eyes widened. “No! Never! How could I, anyway? I was watching!”

“So why did you keep watching my streams after we started dating?”

“Because,” Brian swallowed. “This is going to sound stupid but…I think John and I thought…if we were there…we could sort of protect you a bit. Stupid, I know.”

Roger closed his eyes.

Three hours had been enough time to calm down, to think it through, to analyse what had happened. And now Brian was telling him he just wanted to protect him.

Warmth cracked through the tumult of emotions.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I was going to, I promise. I was just…scared…that a professor wouldn’t want to go out with…someone like me.”

Brian took Roger’s hand, hesitantly.

“Please don’t think that. Don’t ever think that. And I’m sorry, too. I should have told you that I knew.”

Roger nodded. He opened his eyes, and looked into Brian’s, and smiled.

“I think…” His voice trembled, and he paused to take a breath. “I think we need to…maybe step back a little, while we work this through. But…I still want to go out with you.”

Brian looked so relieved Roger thought he would faint. “I understand. I agree.”

Roger flexed his fingers slightly in Brian’s grip, and received a shy smile in return, and for the first time since Brian had messaged him that morning, Roger felt that everything was going to be all right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the short chapter, folks!


	7. Far and Near

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie sleeps. Then he and Roger talk. Roger has some hard truths for both of them.

As soon as the door shut behind Roger, Freddie emerged from his room to pace the apartment alone.

He’d hardly slept all night. Every time he tried, John’s anguished face rose before his eyes, and made sleep impossible. He’d snatched a few half-hours, but nothing substantial.

He could hardly think straight.

Freddie went back into the kitchen, where the kettle still sat on the hob. Perhaps some more tea would help. He settled back into the couch and wrapped his hands around the warm cup.

Roger hadn’t been as upset as Freddie thought he’d be.

That was more or less the first coherent thought that had passed through his mind. He had expected Roger to be furiously upset, to rage, to throw something.

But instead, Roger had been upset, but calm. And now he’d gone to meet Brian.

 _There must have been a reason_.

Did Roger believe that? Was Roger right? Had John had a reason, and Freddie couldn’t hear him out?

He closed his eyes, and before he could think further, sleep surprised him.

*

“Hey.”

Roger’s voice pulled Freddie gently from the welcome darkness. He opened his eyes and saw Roger, his golden hair framing his face, a light behind him giving him an almost angelic appearance.

“Roger?”

“Of course it’s me,” Roger sighed, breaking the spell. “Shove up, will you? You’re taking up all the couch.”

Freddie pulled his legs in and struggled out of his pile of cushions to sit up.

“What time is it?”

“Five in the evening,” Roger answered. “I left you to sleep for a while, but I didn’t want you to sleep much longer, else you’ll not sleep tonight.”

Freddie rubbed his hand over his face with a sigh.

“I doubt I’ll sleep tonight anyway.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk about, Fred.” Roger’s voice was uncharacteristically serious, and Freddie frowned at him.

“About what?”

“About our…situation.” Roger shuffled so that his body was facing Freddie, and suddenly it occurred to Freddie the other meaning that the time had for him.

“How did it go with Brian? Did he admit it?”

Roger took a deep breath. “Yes, Freddie, he admitted it. He apologised. And I apologised too.”

“Why did _you_ apologise?” Freddie snapped, feeling anger building again. “They lied to us! They put us through the nerves of when to tell them – they knew all along!”

“Because we lied to them too, Freddie,” Roger’s voice was sharp. “ _We lied too_. Our lie might have been by omission, but we lied too. And by lying to them we showed we didn’t trust them. Yes,” he added, seeing Freddie about to interrupt, “I know it’s for our safety. But this is simple, Freddie. They didn’t want us to think they were creeps. And we didn’t want them to look down on us. Neither gave the other a chance to think otherwise.”

“Their safety wasn’t at risk,” Freddie muttered.

“No. It wasn’t. And Brian, at least, understands that. But he doesn’t look down on either of us, Freddie. And if he doesn’t, then I’ll wager John doesn’t either.”

“Why are you defending them?” Freddie growled. “You _hated_ Paul, you beat him to a pulp, when you thought he’d hurt me. Why are you defending John? He’s hurt me _worse_ , Rog.”

“Because,” Roger said with an air of forced calmness, which he always got when talking about Paul, “Paul wasn’t worth your time. But John – I think John is.”

“You’re still seeing Brian.”

“Yes,” Roger agreed. “We’re still seeing each other. We’ve agreed to slow down, but we’re still seeing each other. Because, Freddie, I’m not stupid. Brian is an amazing man. He’s an amazing man that made a _mistake_. Yes, he lied to me. And yes, I lied to him. But we can both agree to work past that. I think he’s worth it. I can’t just let him leave my life over this. I think he’s worth fighting for. And if that means that we don’t get serious any time soon I’m fine with that – but he didn’t suddenly just become horrible because he made one mistake.”

Freddie couldn’t answer that. He looked down into his tea.

“And neither did John, Fred,” Roger’s voice was gentler now. “You know I’ve chased off so many prospective boyfriends for you – didn’t it ever occur to you to wonder why I never chased off John?”

Freddie raised his head, confused.

“Why?”

“Because I saw the way he looked at you, Freddie. He looked at you as though he had been handed a precious jewel he was afraid to lose. Because he went out of his way to find out what you enjoyed and genuinely listened to you. Because he _respected_ you. Don’t you see? He knew, and _he didn’t care_. He treated you like you had a normal job. He never treated you less.”

Freddie bit his lip, feeling tears spring up in his eyes. His anger had washed away in a storm of emotion.

Because Roger was _right_. John had treated Freddie better than any other person. He’d taken him seriously, even as a fashion designer, when so many other men hadn’t.

And suddenly, John’s voice was echoing in his head.

_“Whatever you do for work – even if you think it’s something shameful – it will never make you less, Freddie. It will never lower your worth in my eyes. I promise.”_

The tears dripped down Freddie’s cheeks.

John had told him. John had told him he knew. It hadn’t been obvious, but that had been John letting him know that he knew and that he still found Freddie worthwhile.

Was he willing to let John go? Could he find it in himself to move past it?

He knew the answer before he even thought of the question.

“It’s got to be face-to-face, doesn’t it?”

“I think that’s the best way,” Roger smiled.

With his hands shaking, Freddie pulled out his phone, took a deep breath, and unblocked John’s number.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M ALIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE!
> 
> Okay. So in addition to the writer's block the world decided to end? I mean how rude? Anyway, I've been finding it kinda hard to write while I've been working from home and I've really been working on trying to separate my work mind from my play mind which is really hard when you don't have a separate home office arrangement. But let's see what happens now that I'm getting the hang of it and basically a hermit.
> 
> tumblr: nothingelsematterswrites and I will be trying to start clearing the inbox soon.


	8. Some Stream of Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Freddie and John's turn to have a discussion.

John’s fingertips were red raw.

He wasn’t a huge fingernail chewer, but the prospect of meeting Freddie face to face after the disastrous reveal had had him ripping down his nails until there was nothing left to get his teeth into.

He’d hardly known what to think when his phone had vibrated and lit up with a text message from Freddie. It simply had the name of a café, a time, and the next day’s date.

On the plus side, Freddie was willing to talk.

On the down side, John was pretty sure Freddie was going to kill him.

Not helping was that Brian had returned home that day with a soft glow to his face that said his conversation with Roger had gone well. That had – well, that had surprised John, really. He had expected Roger to be boiling with rage.

Heck. Roger had a key, John was surprised he was still _alive_. Roger had made it abundantly clear that he would hurt anyone who hurt Freddie, and John hadn’t just hurt him, he’d ripped his heart out.

John flinched away from the thought and turned back to the mirror. The café was casual, but John didn’t want to dress too casually; he wanted to make sure that Freddie knew he was being serious. At the same time, he didn’t want to be _over-_ serious; what if Freddie thought John was breaking up with him?

(Was their relationship even still in a place where he _could_ be broken up with?)

He’d picked out a button-down shirt and jeans, but instead of leaving his hair loose, he pulled it off his face into a ponytail. It seemed appropriate, somehow, to make sure Freddie could see all of his face.

Then, taking a deep breath, he set out for the café.

*

When John arrived (ten minutes early), he immediately recognised Freddie sitting at a table outside, staring out over the ducks in the lake before him.

He looked pale and wan and so _beautiful_ that John’s heart ached immediately.

John stood there for so long that one of the servers came across to him.

“Are you looking for a table, sir?”

“Oh, uh, no,” he fumbled. “I – actually that’s the person I’m meeting over there.”

“Very good, sir.” The server raised an eyebrow pointedly, and John hurried towards the table, realising he was holding up the line of people waiting to be seated.

Freddie looked up as John approached. His eyes were dark and red-rimmed, but there was no sign of tears – and no sign of any other emotion, either. John swallowed as he sat himself at the table, and the server came by to ask what they wanted to drink.

The silence that spun out after the server left with their order quickly grew awkward. All of the pre-prepared speeches that John had so carefully run over in his mind evaporated, but Freddie clearly wasn’t in a mood to start their conversation.

The server finished putting the drinks on their table, took one look at their faces, and very quickly made herself scarce.

Finally, John couldn’t stand it anymore.

“I fucked up.”

Freddie raised an eyebrow.

“You don’t say?” he asked, his voice husky from crying.

“I shouldn’t – I didn’t – I wanted – I just…” John was close to hyperventilating; he pinched himself to focus on something else. “I…that was such a dumb way to tell you. I’m – I’m sorry.”

Freddie let his breath out in a soft sigh.

“Do you know how much it hurt, to get that booking from you?”

John winced. “Yeah – I – it was stupid, I’m sorry.” He ran his hand through the hair on the top of his head; he knew it was pulling strands out of his ponytail but he didn’t care. Suddenly the words came out in a rush.

“I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I knew. I’m sorry I put the onus on you to tell me. I’m sorry for dealing with this the way I did. I just – god, Freddie, I’m so _sorry_ , I could apologise for the rest of my life and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

The silence was broken only by the soft quacking of the ducks. Freddie’s eyes turned to them a moment, then came back to John, and now they were sparkling with tears he would not shed.

“You really mean all that?”

“Yes, Freddie. I really do. I – I just didn’t want to lose you, and god, I’m an idiot, but I thought if you knew I knew, you’d think I was just a creeper, and – I’m not proud of it, Freddie. I know I fucked up.”

Freddie bit his lip, and then sighed again.

“And I did too.”

That threw John for a loop, and he stared mutely at Freddie, wondering what he meant.

“I…you must understand, I don’t tell people what I do straight up, because of my safety.” John nodded. “But you – you gave me every reason to trust you, and I still didn’t tell you. I let things go too far. I should have told you.”

It was John’s turn to let out his breath in a great rush.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Freddie laughed softly. “I don’t think you could ever deliberately hurt someone, John.”

The laugh made warmth blossom over John’s skin, and hope flower in his heart. Could it be, that somehow, some way, he still had a chance?

Then Freddie looked directly at him, a serious expression on his face.

“Once, you told me that you would never think less of me for what I did. Did you mean it?”

“Every word,” John breathed. “Freddie, it doesn’t matter to me. I swear. I’m sorry I messed this up so badly for you.”

Some colour came back into Freddie’s face, and a faint smile quirked at the corner of his mouth. Without saying anything, he reached out, and gently tucked some of John’s hair behind his ear.

The server approached warily with the food, and, sensing a break in the discussion, quickly put it down before backing away.

“So, there’s a new restaurant downtown that I’ve been wanting to try out,” Freddie said lightly as he began cutting up his steak. “I’m free on Friday, if you are.”

For a brief moment, John couldn’t even speak for the hot ball of tears in his throat. A date. There could be no doubt Freddie was asking him on a date. If Freddie was asking him on a date, then John _did_ have a chance.

“Yeah,” he managed to say. “Friday – Friday sounds great. If I close the shop a little early, we could avoid the peak traffic.”

“Sounds perfect,” Freddie flashed a full smile at John, and John nearly melted.

He had a chance.

And this time, he wasn’t going to mess it up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still alive! Still typing! Still quarantined! Still waiting for the world to stop ending! Still grateful I live on a giant island!
> 
> Still with an actual...concept and mapped-out ideas for how this ends! (That's probably the miracle!)
> 
> comments on tumblr also welcome!: nothingelsematterswrites

**Author's Note:**

> I hope that now I've got SOME of this out of my system I can start posting more regularly again.


End file.
